(God, this is really growing on me! lol ) Post-Critic's Choice Awards


The lights were out and the stars were gone, and he found her, hiding behind the curtain alone with the honour of her work in her hands, but the honour of her heart lost to the one that hadn't come.

"He's an ass."

"Don't say that."

"If he cared, he would have been here."

"If he'd been here, he would have brought her. Again. And I couldn't have handled that."

"I'm here."

"I know. But, why? Why are you here, now? Everyone else has gone."

"I waited for you. I looked for you. Your mother's worried. Your friends are worried. Why..."

She showed him her phone.

*Congrats, Baby! I knew you'd get it, Nikki B! I'm home, alone. I'll wait.*

He knelt down to be at her level, and gently wiped the tears away with his finger. His hand was in her hair, those soft, dark waves that shone near blue in the one backstage light that was left on. Her arms were around him, feeling the heat of his body through the lace of her sleeves.

"Don't go."

"I always go."

"Don't go this time."

"Give me a reason."

"Me. Am I enough of a reason?"

"For tonight?"

"For more than tonight. Much more than tonight."

She took his right hand in hers. The hand that was strong but soft. The hand that was free of attachment and confusion and promises and lies. She nodded, and she smiled. She stood up and walked with him, out from behind that curtain and into tomorrow.